


Halloween Party

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Halloween, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Party, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Joker and Jonathan crash Bruce Wayne's Halloween party.





	1. Chapter 1

“Joker, I still don’t get how this is a couple’s costume.”

Jonathan pulled at the too-tight bowtie, and shifted his shoulders against the jacket. He was dressed like Fred Astaire, while the Joker stood next to him wearing something decidedly not a Ginger Rogers costume.

No, the Joker was dressed as Michael Myers, and looked back at Jonathan questioningly through the white mask.

“It just is. Fred and Michael: the dynamic duo.”

“That’s definitely not right,” Jonathan muttered, trying to get the bow tie to stop strangling him.

They climbed the steps to Wayne Manor, blending seamlessly with the costumed elite of Gotham, as they made their way to the most important Halloween party society had to offer.

The Joker gave an alias to the doorman, who checked the name off the list. He then turned to Jonathan.

“Waitstaff use the other entrance,” the man said, gesturing to another door.

“I’m not—” Jonathan began.

He then looked over, and saw a stream of people wearing costumes identical to his, carrying dishes and trays into the house.

“Joker, you son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“Honey, you know how boring these parties can get,” the Joker said lovingly, staring at him through the impassive mask. “I thought you’d be more comfortable if you had something to do.”

“Like serving other people champagne?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

“Exactly,” the Joker said, shoving Jonathan toward the service entrance. “Enjoy yourself, honey, you can’t say I never did anything for you.”

“I’ll spit in your drink,” Jonathan said as he walked away.

“And I will take you in my mouth with a smile on my lips,” Joker yelled after him, ignoring the stares they were attracting.

The doorman looked curiously at the Joker.

“Sorry, I’m already taken,” the Joker said as he brushed past the man.

The party was just getting started, and Joker blended seamlessly with the crowd. As much as he wanted to focus on their mission, he found he couldn’t help but search the room for his scarecrow.

If Jonathan so much as batted an eyelash at Bruce Wayne…the Joker would not be held accountable for his actions!


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan was whisked through the kitchen, elbowed and jostled by the host of serving staff Bruce Wayne had employed for the evening. He had no idea what to do, but, within seconds of thinking this, he was handed a tray of champagne flutes and forcibly pushed from the kitchen into the crowd of guests.

He meandered through the room, doing only the minimum required to keep the champagne from falling on the floor. He kept his head down, afraid of being recognized. It was not an entirely ridiculous idea, although he knew most of the guests wouldn’t be looking at him all too closely.

Their plan was stupid.

Jonathan knew this.

He went along with it anyway.

Ever since the mysterious lights had appeared in the sky, seeming to fall into the very heart of the city, alien craze had swept Gotham. UFO seekers filled the streets, searching for some sign of extraterrestrial life, and the police lines had been flooded with calls about so-called aliens.

The official explanation detailed a wayward weather balloon. It wasn’t a great story, and even Jonathan was a little skeptical.

But, no one had embraced this alien mania like the Joker. The Joker was convinced that not only had aliens landed in Gotham, but that their bodies and spaceships had been taken by Wayne Enterprises for research.

But why would they keep the aliens in Bruce Wayne’s house?

Jonathan kicked himself for getting carried away by the Joker’s enthusiasm. _That_ was the question he should have asked the Joker before allowing himself to be dragged to this party. Bruce Wayne was a bimbo playboy, not exactly the type who would keep invaluable specimens in his mansion. The guy probably didn’t even know what UFO stands for.

“Excuse me, do you mind bringing the champagne over?”

The question disrupted Jonathan’s train of thought, and he realized he had been standing absently in the middle of the room. He turned with a grimace to see who had dared disturb him, and was surprised to see Bruce Wayne looking back, waving him over.

The young billionaire was wearing a clear raincoat over a suit, and carrying an axe. Jonathan couldn’t quite put his finger on what the costume was meant to be.

“Sure,” Jonathan muttered as he walked over.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw an expression of recognition pass over Bruce Wayne’s face when their eyes met. No way. Bruce Wayne didn’t seem the type who kept up with the news.

“Thank you,” Bruce said, taking a champagne flute from Jonathan.

“Uh huh,” Jonathan responded.

Bruce Wayne turned back to his guests, and laughed along with a joke made by a woman wearing a skimpy Tinkerbell costume. Jonathan turned to leave, but he found Bruce Wayne’s eyes lingered on him a moment.

Jonathan felt his cheeks flush, and he immediately felt annoyed at having been, for even a second, flustered by the brief attentions of the playboy billionaire.


	3. Chapter 3

What the heck? Was Jonathan blushing?

The Joker’s eyes travelled from his cheek-reddened scarecrow, to the man who had so affected the doctor.

_Bruce Wayne!_

If that pretty boy billionaire thought he could go around putting weird expressions on Jonathan’s face…well, the Joker had a specific expression he could easily put on Bruce Wayne’s face were he so inclined.

Joker thought about it: he _was_ so inclined.

He shifted the knife in his hands as he headed toward the jovial Bruce Wayne. He opted for an ice pick grip. One quick stab through the heart, and then two quick slashes to the face.

All thoughts of extraterrestrials were banished from his mind as he stalked his prey across the room. Surrounded by Gotham socialites, there didn’t seem to be much security, which was surprising. Although, Bruce Wayne might just have a line to Batman. After all, it seemed like the dark knight would show up at the drop of a hat to defend Bruce Wayne's friends.

He was nearing Bruce Wayne, the knife itching in his fingers. He could see Bruce Wayne’s eyes as they flitted between his guests. The Joker thought, for a moment, that he would detect something there: some kind of thoughtful vigilance. He ignored it. It was Halloween after all, and everyone was prone to seeing strange stuff, even the Joker.

Suddenly, a waiter stepped out in front of him, grabbing his knife hand and pressing a tray between them.

“Joker, what are you doing?” Jonathan asked with a note of caution.

“None of your business,” the Joker responded in a sing-song voice.

“Really? Because it looks like you’re about to go stab the most powerful man in Gotham, and we haven’t even found the aliens.”

“You don’t even believe they’re here, so why do you care?” the Joker asked, staring past Jonathan’s shoulder at Bruce Wayne.

“I think you might be right,” Jonathan said, “not necessarily about aliens, but about something weird going on in this mansion.”

“What do you mean?” the Joker asked, finally giving Jonathan his (mostly) undivided attention.

“When I was in the kitchen, I noticed a hidden door. It’s inside a non-working fireplace.”

This was true but, in reality, Jonathan had not considered it to be anything remarkable. Old houses like Wayne Manor had all kinds of secrets, and it was unlikely to lead anywhere interesting. It was doubtful that the door would even open.

“Lead the way, honey,” the Joker said, cheering up, and letting he knife fall into a loose grip. He could always kill Bruce Wayne later.


	4. Chapter 4

Surprisingly, the door worked.

They had waited until a brief moment when the kitchen was not filled to the brim with waitstaff to enter the fireplace. Jonathan’s heart sank as he watched the door swing open, grating against the hearth. He had hoped this would be a minor distraction, not a new adventure, but luck was not on his side.

“Who goes first?” Jonathan asked, eyeing the narrow passage warily.

“You go, honey. That way, if something comes up behind us, I can protect you,” the Joker responded, pushing Jonathan toward the door.

“And what if we come up to something ahead?” Jonathan asked, his arms crossed.

“That’s your problem,” the Joker said. He stood behind Jonathan and wrapped his arms around the scarecrow’s waist. “Besides, don’t you think I like the view from behind?”

The Joker’s body was pressed against his, and Jonathan tried to shake him off. A few waiters were in the kitchen, and looking at Michael Myers pulling a waiter into a tight, overtly sexual, embrace.

“Fine, I’ll go first,” Jonathan whispered, elbowing the Joker hard, before crouching through the doorway.

It was dark, but luckily he had a flashlight. The Joker had made sure they were fully prepared for whatever they encountered in their alien retrieval.

The passage was narrowing, and Jonathan felt a little panicked as he looked on the too-close walls. He stared straight ahead, ignoring the way his flashlight was lighting less and less with each step, as everything inched closer to his body.

Staring ahead, he failed to notice the unevenness of the flooring, and he tripped, sprawling on the ground. His glasses went flying, and he groaned.

“Joker, do you see my glasses?” He asked.

Jonathan lay on his back and rubbed his face. This was the last thing he needed.

The Joker dropped to the ground, crawling his way up Jonathan’s body in a way that was undoubtedly meant to be sexy. The Joker dragged the front of his body over Jonathan's.

“I’ve got your glasses right here,” the Joker said, in a breathy voice.

Correction: _this_ was the last thing Jonathan needed.

“Do you actually have the glasses, or are you just saying that?” Jonathan asked, pushing the Joker’s chest back. “Because if it you don't have them, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I’ve got something that will make you feel better,” the Joker whispered in his ear, and Jonathan could feel the greasepaint smudging his cheek

“Joker, this is really not the time,” Jonathan said, attempting patience. “I’ve got something digging into my back, I’m feeling pretty claustrophobic, and I’m basically blind. Given all that, how into this do you think I am?” he asked.

The Joker continued his ostensibly erotic crawl past Jonathan’s body, kneeing the capsized scarecrow in the face as he went. Jonathan could hear some movement, but he decided to close his eyes and count to ten.

He could feel the Joker reverse his direction, and a weight settle on his stomach, as the Joker came to straddle him.

The Joker started flicking Jonathan’s closed eyelids, until the doctor had no choice but open them.

“What?” he asked, his vision still blurry.

He could make out the Joker’s shape above him in the dim light, but couldn’t see much else.

“I’ve heard blindfolded sex is good,” the Joker said, his words strangely mumbled. “What do you say we give it a shot.”

“I’m not blindfolded,” Jonathan responded. “I can see your general shape, but no specifics.”

He could hear the Joker spit something. “Then I guess you can’t see your glasses in my mouth. Trust me, it was hot.”

“You have them?” Jonathan asked, his heart leaping. He chose to ignore the rest of the sentence.

“Yeah, right here,” the Joker said, dropping them onto his partner’s face.

Jonathan scrambled to put on the glasses, feeling the Joker’s spit on the lenses.

“Thanks,” he said, relieved he could see again.

“Anything for you, honey,” the Joker said, as they continued their crawl through the hidden passage. "Besides, you'll pay me back later."


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan spilled out into a room, the Joker hot on his heels. It was dark, and he used the flashlight to look around for a light switch.

Light flooded the room, and Jonathan winced as his pupils contracted.

They were in a lavish bedroom. The light came from false candles on the walls, and a satin covered bed sat in the middle of the room.

The walls were made of a dark hardwood, decorative arches cut into the ceiling overhead.

“Not bad,” the Joker said, looking around. Even he had to admit he was impressed.

“Indeed,” Jonathan said, reflexively straightening his glasses. “But, we’re unlikely to find our extraterrestrials in a spare bedroom.”

“What makes you think this is a spare?” the Joker asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Just a feeling,” he said.

He opened the drawers in the chest, revealing them to be empty.

“Well,” the Joker said, “you know what that means…”

Before Jonathan could even blink, the Joker was by his side, attempting to hold hands. Jonathan tried to get his hand back, but the Joker clenched his fist menacingly, and Jonathan relented.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” the Joker asked.

Jonathan freed his hand and sat down on the bed, wiping his smudged glasses off with his shirt. He could never seem to keep them clean.

“I can just about guess,” he responded, pressing his brow with his thumb.

The Joker sat down next to him. “You’re beautiful when you’re annoyed, honey, you know that?”

He took Jonathan’s hand in his again, resting it on his knee. With his other hand, he smoothed back Jonathan’s hair.

The Joker slipped his finger under Jonathan’s bowtie, loosening it slightly.

“Joker—” Jonathan began, his cheeks heating.

The Joker clamped his hand over Jonathan’s mouth. “Silence, darling, don’t say a word.”

The Joker pushed the hand, pressing Jonathan’s face until he was laying on the bed. Or rather, Jonathan’s upper half was. His feet were still firmly on the floor.

The Joker took off Jonathan’s bowtie, throwing it to the floor. He then hooked his finger on the first button of Jonathan’s shirt, and slipped it free. His hand was still on Jonathan’s mouth, and Jonathan could feel his breath on the back of the Joker’s hand.

Within seconds, the Joker had opened Jonathan’s shirt at the front, and pressed his palm on Jonathan’s stomach.

“Remember what I said before?” the Joker asked, “about you being beautiful?”

Jonathan nodded against the Joker’s hand.

“Goes double now,” the Joker murmured, looking down at Jonathan, green hair falling across his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

“Joker,” Jonathan said.

He lay back, looking up at the ceiling. His voice sounded hoarse, and his heartbeat quickened. He was now shirtless, in Bruce Wayne’s spare bedroom, with the Joker sitting beside him, running a hand across his face.

“We should get back to the alien search,” Jonathan said, trying to sit up.

The Joker pressed a hand to Jonathan’s bare chest, pushing him back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t believe they were real?” the Joker said, swinging a leg over Jonathan’s torso.

“You’ve convinced me,” Jonathan said, trying to sit up again.

The Joker didn’t push him down, but he didn’t move either. The Joker was now sitting in his lap, and the clown wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck. The weight on his legs and the warmth of the Joker against his chest was not altogether unpleasant.

Jonathan relented with a sigh, and brought his hands to the Joker’s waist. The Joker took off the Michael Myers mask, and threw it to the floor. His makeup had become smudged against the mask, and Jonathan could see a near-perfect print of the Joker’s face looking up at him from the carpet.

The Joker unzipped the jumpsuit, pulling it down to his waist.

“You’re naked under the costume?” Jonathan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Let’s just say, this was not unanticipated,” the Joker answered, licking his lips.

“Glad I’m so predictable,” Jonathan said.

He could hardly be annoyed. He had his man in his lap, and he ran his hands over the Joker’s back.

The Joker pressed his lips to Jonathan’s, and Jonathan lay back on the bed, pulling the Joker with him. The Joker’s weight felt good against him, even though it made it a little more difficult to breathe. Then again, the Joker’s presence often had that effect on Jonathan.

He could feel his blood rushing downward, and he flipped them on the bed. The Joker now lay on his back, while Jonathan was situated between the clown’s legs.

“Honey, I’m surprised to see you so forward,” the Joker said. “I can’t say I don’t like it.”

“There’s something else you might like,” Jonathan said, pressing forward. He was fully aware of how cliché he had become.

The Joker openly laughed at this, even as he pulled Jonathan closer, interlocking his knees behind Jonathan’s back.

Jonathan had reached down to unzip his pants, when he heard the click of the door suddenly opening. He scrambled to the Joker’s side, as they looked at the man in the doorway.

_Goddamn Bruce Wayne!_


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s not what it looks like,” Jonathan said. He had dropped from the bed to the floor and was trying to put his shirt back on.

Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway wearing an expression that could only be described as bemused.

“Aw, honey, let it go. I think the man can tell it’s exactly what it looks like,” the Joker said, his eyes narrow as he surveyed the playboy. “He’s not that dumb.”

“How did you get in here?’ Bruce Wayne asked pointedly.

He stepped into the room and looked around, before his eyes landed on the dirt and soot that marred the carpet.

“You found the secret tunnel,” he said quietly, nodding.

“What’s it to you, pretty boy?” the Joker asked menacingly.

“When two of _my_ guests start exploring _my_ house, that kind of makes it _my_ business.”

“Fair enough,” Jonathan said, doing the last button on his shirt. “Let’s get out of here,” he said to the Joker.

It seemed like Bruce Wayne might be offering them an easy out. Jonathan knew they should just leave the party.

“Wait,” the Joker said, standing up.

The jumpsuit was hanging precariously off his hips and Jonathan was watching, unsure of whether he even wanted them to stay up. Though, when he thought about it, he would not be happy if Bruce Wayne got to see what was underneath.

“We still don’t have any proof of the aliens,” the Joker said, advancing on Bruce Wayne. “And we can’t leave without it.”

“Joker, let’s just go,” Jonathan pleaded.

“Joker!” Bruce Wayne said with astonishment, “You mean that’s not just a costume?”

No way anyone was that dense, Joker thought. It was just impossible. Bruce Wayne knew something, and he was trying to get rid of them.

The Joker pulled the knife out of his pocket, and held the tip to Bruce Wayne’s throat.

“What do you know about the aliens that landed in Gotham?” the Joker asked.

“Nothing, I swear…just what they said on the news,” Bruce Wayne stammered.

“Why is it, I just don’t believe you?” the Joker said.

Strangely enough, Jonathan didn’t believe him either. There was something in Bruce Wayne’s eyes that betrayed knowledge. He hated to agree with the Joker, but the billionaire might be involved after all.

“There’s got to be another secret area to the mansion,” Jonathan observed, his arms crossed. “A place like this, they don’t just build random tunnels between rooms. My guess, this place is riddled with hidden chambers.”

“You heard the beautiful lady,” the Joker said, pressing the knife more firmly against Bruce Wayne’s throat. “Where are they?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Bruce Wayne said, raising his hands up. “I don’t have any aliens, but there is a hidden room in the subbasement.”

“Lead the way,” the Joker said with a half-bow.

Bruce sighed, before straightening himself up and leading the Joker and Jonathan through the hallway to a set of stairs hidden behind a bookcase.

“I can’t promise you’ll like what you find,” Bruce Wayne said ominously, as they descended the dark steps.


	8. Chapter 8

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and a light switched on. They were in a dusty room, surrounded by stone walls.

Bruce Wayne was nowhere in sight.

“Joker,” Jonathan said.

“Yes, honey,” he responded, his voice cheerful.

“What’s going on?”

The Joker put his hands on his hips, his jumpsuit still halfway down and his makeup smudged.

“Maybe he got kidnapped by a ghost,” the Joker said, grabbing Jonathan’s sides in an effort to scare him.

Jonathan shook the clown off, his patience wearing thin. “I thought we were here looking for aliens. Is it ghosts or aliens? Take your pick.”

The Joker stepped back. “Well, I bring you along on an adventure and this is the attitude I get? I might just leave you here and go exploring all by myself.”

“Fine by me,” Jonathan said, in no mood to argue.

“Well, what if I take your glasses? I know how precious they are to you.”

The Joker tried to grab Jonathan’s face, but the doctor swatted him away. “We have bigger things to worry about. Where is Bruce Wayne?”

The Joker looked around for a few seconds before giving up. “Who knows, who cares. All I know is, I’d like to finish what we stared back in the bedroom.”

He edged closer to Jonathan, pulling the reluctant scarecrow into a tight embrace. Jonathan could feel the Joker’s wiry muscles and bare skin. He felt the Joker’s hot breath on his neck and, despite himself, he found his mind wandering to where things might have gone, had Bruce Wayne been otherwise occupied.

Jonathan took the Joker’s face in his hands and pressed his lips firmly against those of the madman. He could taste the Joker against his mouth, and he returned the embrace.

The Joker picked Jonathan up, so Jonathan’s legs were wrapped around the Joker’s waist. He carried him to a dark corner of the room, pressing Jonathan’s back against the wall. Freeing his hands, the Joker ripped open the front of Jonathan’s shirt, and he could hear the clatter of buttons as they fell across the floor.

The Joker reached his hand out to lean against the wall, and press himself harder against Jonathan’s body, when he felt something move beneath his palm. He drew his hand back, realizing he had stumbled across another human, only this human was wearing distinctly armor-like clothing.

Batman stepped from the shadows, his arms crossed.

Jonathan’s face was covered in greasepaint smudges, and his shirt was torn open over his bare chest. The Joker did not let go of Jonathan, instead pulling him closer.

“Perfect timing. First Bruce Wayne, now Batman. Can we get a little privacy?” the clown complained.

Batman stared back.

The Joker let go of Jonathan, turning to face Batman. “It’s okay, I know the drill. Fade to black,” he said.

Batman’s fist connected with the side of the Joker’s head, knocking him out with a single punch.

Jonathan looked at the unconscious Joker, before turning back to Jonathan.

“I know you need to knock me out too,” he said, straightening his glasses, “but I’d rather you didn’t.”

Batman pulled a cannister from his belt, and sprayed something into Jonathan’s face. Within seconds, Jonathan grew unsteady on his feet, and he felt Batman catch him as he passed out.


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan woke up, his body slumped over the Joker’s unconscious form. His head ached, and he looked around. They weren’t in Arkham, that much was certain. They were outdoors, near the Gotham city limits, propped up nicely against the welcoming city sign.

Jonathan looked at the Joker’s temple, knowing a bruise would show up soon enough. Not that it mattered, given how much makeup the clown wore.

He touched the Joker’s chest, and felt something crinkle beneath his fingers. Batman had pinned a note to the Joker’s jumpsuit. There was enough light from the sky, that Jonathan was able to make out the words.

It read:

_Happy Halloween_

_P.S. Stay out of Wayne Manor_


End file.
